he gentle and most
Christian poet, James Montgomery,--have each and all offered tributes to
his memory. Robert Southey, whose polished, strong and long unclouded
mind was a treasure-house of noble-thoughts, assisted Mr. Cottle in
providing for the poet's family by a collection of his works; and,
though last, not least, excellent John Britton has labored all his long
life to render justice to the poor boy's memory. To him, indeed, it was
mainly owing, that the cenotaph to which we have referred (and which now
lies mouldering in the Church vault), was erected in the graveyard of
Redcliffe Church, by subscription, of which the contributions of Bristol
were very small.[12]

Chatterton was another warning, not only

"Against self-slaughter
There is a prohibition so divine--"

but that no mortal should ever abandon Hope! for a reverend
gentleman,--who was, in all things, what, unhappily, Horace Walpole was
not,--had actually visited Bristol, to seek out and aid the boy while he
lay dead in London.

"Beware of desperate steps; the darkest day,
Live till to-morrow, will have passed away."

[Illustration: CHATTERTON'S MONUMENT.]

The knowledge of these facts cheered us as we set forth to the
neighborhood of Shoe-Lane to see the spot where he had been laid. Alas,
it is very hard to keep pace with the progress of London changes. After
various inquiries, we were told that Mr. Bentley's printing office
stands upon the ground of Shoe-Lane Workhouse. We ascended the steps
leading to this shifting emporium of letters, and found ourselves face
to face with a kind gentleman, who told us all he knew upon the subject,
which was, that the printing office stands--not upon the burying-ground
of Shoe-Lane Workhouse, where he had always understood Chatterton was
buried--but upon the church burial-ground. He showed us a very curious
basso-relievo, in cut-stone, of the Resurrection, which he assured us
had been "time out of mind" above the entrance to the Shoe-Lane
burying-place "over the way," and which is now the site of Farrington
Market. This, when "all the bones" were moved to the old graveyard in
Gray's Inn Road, had come "somehow" into Mr. Bentley's possession.

We were told also that Mr. Taylor, another printer, had lived, before
the workhouse was pulled down, where his office-window looked upon the
spot pointed out as the grave of Chatterton, and that a stone, "a rough
white stone," was remembered to h